On the western edge of the Dragon Wastes, a mere two hundred miles from the shattered, jagged coastline, dashed by violent storms that seemed to perpetually hug the borders of this forsaken land, stood a unique city. Although in this case, perhaps “stood” was an inappropriate word, as this city was built in the shape of a ring, running along the sunken walls of a massive pit, ten miles across and a descending an inestimable distance into the crust of the continent. As the last major bastion on Dark-Moon, this city was filled to the brim with a diverse amalgam of every species, people, and creed, each coming with hopes of shaping their own fortune by claiming for themselves a lost piece of a great fallen civilization.

Long ago, this had been the second capital of the Iko Dynasty, the eternal rulers of the great, yet fallen, Draconic Empire. Once a great city flourishing with life, magic, and technology, the fury of a true dragon burned it all to ash, and sunk that ash into the ravenous, all-consuming pit that now hosted what few remnants of the lower imperials remained, the others lost to the sands of time.

It is deep within the recesses of the city, within the twisting and winding pathways and alcoves of catacombs once belonging to this great behemoth that the adventurous set out to seek their fame and fortune. Or in this case, perhaps, the devout and faithful sought something grander, more righteous.

A small party set up a temporary camp within those depths, although lacking in permanence, it contained far more luxury and comfort than one might expect from miners or adventurers. Indeed while this expedition consisted of a small handful of miners and an even smaller number of servants, the majority were now gathered in a palatial tent, garbed in priestly vestments of white and gold, or armored in shining plates sharing the color scheme. The most notable of this group were three young priests that set together at the head of the leading table. Each of them seemed to radiate with their own source of light, and just their presence evoking a sense of majesty and worship.

The priest who sat on the left wore amber robes that glittered with golden metallic embroidery depicting a beautiful androgynous male figure, arms held wide as a crowd of wounded figures stood below his feet, reaching out in worship and prayer. With hair as golden as the embroidery on her robes, this cleric sat quietly with a saintly look on her face, her pale eyelids drooping over bright, limpid blue eyes, projecting an image of pious calm at best, and indifference at worst.

On the right sat a man with bleached white hair, a color that once again matched his robes, however in his case if one looked closely they might see small flecks of black growing out of the roots of his scalp, hinting at a fabrication within his ”naturally” pure image. Not that any would dare mention such a thing considering the sharp fierceness he projected, in direct contrast to his counterpart in gold. His raiments were bleach-white except for a shimmering silver image of a woman, arms outstretched in a mirror of the golden man. However, rather than an image of healing this was a depiction of purification of filth. A sooty, iron-colored thread was used to depict a mass of apparent sinners beneath the silvered rays of light, dissipating to nothingness in the midst of their various acts of debauchery.

Between the two sat the most eye-catching and prominent figure of the three. This man seemed an image of human perfection taken form. A gentle smile rested on his face, containing the same sort of calming energy as his female counterpart on his left, while lacking none of the keen sharpness of the male counterpart on the right. He had semi-long strawberry blond hair slicked back across his head, and a well-trimmed golden beard, the display of masculinity setting him apart from the almost-feminine epicene look of his peers, yet lacking none of the beauty they projected. Sharp emerald eyes overlooking the room in a quiet reverie, at a glance his gaze took on a palpable nature as if he could see though any deception. His robes bore a fusion of the two images, with a white base, and golden embroidery depicting another female form, this one bare, only covered by the tactful angles of the depiction. Neither healing, nor purification, but stasis and protection was her offering, faithful shown covered in light of their own, standing proud against a coming storm.

The rest of the tables were divided between 30 different men and women, each wearing some form of garb that matched the depictions of their leadership, but much more subdued in design. Some sat with books and pens for note and prayer as they loudly and confidently discussed and argued topics of theology and how it aligned with the collection of relics that sat before them. Others were armed with swords, spears, and maces, gathered around a complex set of maps at the end of a table, outlining the tunnel network they were camped out in. Some sat and quietly ate from a selection of food assorted on a separate table by the edge of the tent, while others yet sat alone, eyes closed, and hands grasped together in prayer.

This meeting had dragged on for hours now and Eldred was getting tired of sitting quietly with his trademark handsome smile as he waited for those before him to come to a consensus about anything regarding this trip. He was beginning to feel that this was a waste of time, and perhaps all his subordinates were incompetent. Well, he supposed there had to be some downsides to a system that chooses its members through a spiritual selection by a trinity of gods who had no desire, or perhaps even ability, to speak directly to them.

Shaking his head to rid himself of his brief and small heresy, Eldred forgot to maintain his facade of patient devotion, and leaned into his hands, massaging at his temple. This elicited a chuckle from the priest in white beside him. The white haired man leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered to him.

“I told you that this is what would happen Brother Eldred. You cannot expect to gather a room full of people used to lording their intelligence and holiness over others, place them in a room of their peers, and expect them to cooperate. These fools probably don’t even know the word.”

The golden robed woman leaned in from the other side, her mellow demeanor shifting ever so slightly as her face was blocked from the view of the tent as a whole as she leaned behind Eldred to glare at the priest in white.

“Brother Benedict, please refrain from comments that could cast judgement on the selections made by the goddesses. And Brother Eldred, please return to decorum. As you know, the doctrine states that we as their betters must show this through not only word but action. Amen”

Groaning again, even louder, Eldred lost his last strands of patience and was about to snap a retort to his juniors when he noticed the flap of the tent peeled back, and a nervous servant stood there, waiting for permission to enter, only to go unnoticed by the entirely absorbed clergymen. Seeing the opportunity to escape what he could only describe as the truest exercise in self-imposed misery, Eldred pounded his fist on the arm of his seat, imbuing energy into it as he did, leading to a loud BANG! as he spoke loudly to quiet the space.

“QUIET! The messenger has arrived, hopefully with news.”

The room fell into silence, and the meandering clergymen shuffled around to find their seats again. The servant by the tent flap steepled three fingers on each hand before his forehead and performed a deep bow towards Eldred before he practically ran into the tent, and bowing again, presented a sheet of paper with a hastily scribbled message before him and then stepping back to await further orders.

Eldred gracefully lifted the page, and after a solitary moment of reading, his expression turned gleeful and he muttered under his breath, getting a glare from his left, and a chuckle from his right.

“See Sister Eva, I never gave up hope. I was just waiting to be put out of my misery by this clear revelation from the Goddess of Mercy, intended to spare me from the foolishness of a clergy we have gathered.”

Standing up from his seat and addressing the now quiet tent, Eldred spoke again, this time with a deep dignity and resonance that seemed to carry his voice, despite his not over-loud tone.

“Brothers and Sisters. It seems our miners have finally broken through the last wall… With the grace of the holy trinity they have identified it is indeed what we hoped to find, the lost bastion of the Imperial Gholas, the holy place from which we can help our benevolent saviors and Lords regain the physical form they so deserve, and manifest upon the land to usher in an age of peace and utopia. For the 700 years since the founding of our order we have held the dream of returning the saving grace of our deities to the land, to allow them to grace our nation once again with their saving mercy and free us and our people from the trifling sufferings of life. No longer will we have to pray to the heavens for salvation and hope that their forms will grace us with their power. No longer will the heretic orders of Ardia keep us restrained to our churches, away from the believers who deserve our presence. This is only the first step, but it is indeed a step towards our desired utopia… But I digress, for now, I need your faith and your expertise to help uncover from these ruins the secrets of the divine, and the lost ability to restore shape to that which is incorporeal”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Closing his eyes and pressing three fingers of each hand together before his chest, Eldred stood, truly absorbed in rapture of his faith, his presence radiating a genuine believe and reverie the others joining him not a moment later.

***

The priests had been spread through the vast complex for weeks now and seemed no closer to finding the promised methods that Eldred had dedicated so much of his life to searching for. The notably more haggard cleric trudged through the intricate labyrinth of passages that made up the complex they had unburied. Each of the walls was engraved with symbols and sigils, some of the omnipresent and easily understandable runes of more traditional forms of magic, in other spots though, the symbols and letters twisted and swirled unnaturally, seemingly random and incoherent. Running his fingers across the mess of symbols as he made his way though the decrepit stone hallways, Eldred sighed and bemoaned the tragic loss of such an opportunity for mankind. If only they had the proper discretion, perhaps such a wonderful gift would not have been wasted and lost. Sighing again, even deeper as he pulled himself from his reverie he smiled wryly and lifted his hand from the wall, turning a corner into a cavernous room filled with others of his research team.

The chamber was filled with an amalgam of tools and containers of a vast variety of materials, some known to the church, others lost to time. Each of the innumerable surfaces in the room housed a plethora of these tools as well as a few spare books and tablets that survived the collapse of the city and facility. Although many of them were ruined with the same sort of unnatural randomness afflicting the characters on the walls of the hallway, many were still legible. Enough that they had been able to identify this as the core laboratory of the local Gholas, but besides the rumor that had drawn them here in the first place, they were yet to determine the content of the research and whether it was truly what they searched for.

If we still have not made headway by the end of the month, we may have to swallow our pride and reach out to whatever remains of the Adoran Nechrarchs for their assistance. Nonbelievers though they may be, at least they will have a deeper foundations in this study.

As Eldred mused about the ever dispiriting and waning potential of his expedition, making his way over to his workstation in a corner of the chamber, a shout from his side pulled his attention back to the present.

“Hah! That’s it!”

Looking over and seeing one of the younger scholars in their party standing tall, arms raised in triumph, Eldred shifted his direction and made his way over to confirm.

“Hmm, Rodrick yes? What have you discovered?”

Rodrick was a man barely out of adulthood, in his priestly vestments he looked all the part of the leader of the children’s choir were it not for the robe’s clerical identifiers. Traces of fuzz lined his chin, his hair wild, eyes baggy, robe stained with dirt and sweat, yet the man practically shone with his excitement. Seeing Eldred approaching, he gingerly lifted the scroll from his station, moving it over to an area he could demonstrate for the leader.

“Ah, Father Eldred, please take a look at this. I think I have figured out the main function of the chambers!

“You see, I was going through the missive scrolls. The older priests thought that it was a waste of time since they are encoded, but that’s just ridiculous!”

Quickly rambling in his excitement, a sharp look from Eldred calmed him down enough to continue a little more straightforwardly, looking for affirmation, before continuing with his explanation.

“Um, I mean, all due respect to my seniors, but I felt that there was a missed opportunity there… Anyway, I tried all the commonly known codes from the end-days of the Iko, but none of them properly lined up, so eventually I figured that they must have been using a laboratory-specific code. But that would make this an exercise in futility, and I refused to believe that there was no chance here. So I figured, what did all the Ghola have in common? What made them tick? Well, they were all arrogant members of the royal family, or at least any Ghola that mattered. Their bloodlines were watered down by the generations, but at the very least they considered themselves to be decendents of fire dragons. And, well, what makes a fire dragon a fire dragon.”

Getting nervous as he approached his conclusion, especially seeing the impatient look on Eldred’s face, the young cleric began to shuffle items on his workstation, grabbing a candle and flint. Quickly igniting the candle, he held the withered scroll up to the heat. After a moment of trembling in fear that it would simply ignite this time despite his prior success, his hands steadied, and the scroll began to shift. The letters twisted and turned until they formed a completely different missive than what was initially recorded.

Snatching the changed document from him, Eldred poured over the contents, exhaustion evaporating from his face like a forgotten dream. Grinning like a madman and slapping a hand on the young priest’s shoulder, he finally replied.

“You have done well my boy, so, so well. Salvation is looking upon you with her grace, and you will most certainly be rewarded for your work and foresight.”

Turning to the rest of the now gathered researchers, Eldred read the document aloud, each and every pair of eyes widening as they all turned and looked at the only plain wall in the chamber, a place they had ignored in favor of all the other points of interest. Handing the candle back to Rodrick and looking at the boy with a gentle smile, he gestured to the wall.

“Please, this was your find, you should have the honor of revealing the results of our work. Fear not, even if the device is no longer intact, I will not hold it against you. But the honor of its discovery belongs to you alone”

Rodrick stepped forward, touching the heat to an innocuous mark near the center of the wall, a spot easily dismissed as a mere scuff. With the rumble of a decaying mechanical process, the wall groaned and shook, eventually moving backward and sliding to the side to reveal a much smaller chamber in pristine condition, seemingly frozen in time for the last thousand years.

The priests shuffled into the room and looked at the large brass construct within. Extending 15 feet in each direction, it stood as a sphere made of interlocking, nested rings surrounding a human-sized silvered egg in the center. An opening in the egg exposed a velvet-cushioned chair with rune-scribed restrains formed of a gently glowing crystal. With a gasp one of priests ran his fingers along the outermost ring, in specific across the engraved symbols and runes.

“It’s ALL filled with hekaite... And no fallen-tongue at all… How many thousands of symbols…”

Looking at the rings, Eldred let out a chuff of astonishment and relief, turning to his peers and subordinates.

“Alright, if we can figure out the workings, our live’s work will be proven fruitful and our gods made manifest again. As scholar Mineere has noted, the device is likely to still be functional even without our meddling, so please be cautious. Let’s get to work!”

***

Rodrick woke with a start, peering around his tent for what might have woken him, he found that he was alone. Despite sharing the tent with 3 other members of the expedition, and it being the middle of the night, for some reason he alone was in the tent.

Slightly nervous, he called out for his fellows and pulled the tent flap back to look around outside. The area was dark. They had dug shafts down from the surface some weeks prior, so it was certainly still night time, but it was too quiet, even for night.

A screech echoed through the hallways, and his shoulders seized, goosebumps traveling across his flesh from his nape down his spine. Hesitantly reaching behind him for the small knife his mother insisted he pack despite his ardent pacifism, he clumsily held it in front of him and began muttering prayers to Salvation to preserve him and Purity to purge whatever evil caused such a sound.

“Brother Yanis?… Sister Farrah?… Where are you?”

Cautiously moving forward towards the tunnel leading towards the laboratory chambers, he inched his way out of the chamber, calling for his missing companions only to hear the eerie retort of unnaturally pure silence.

“Father Eldred?” he called, a desperate lilt affecting his voice.

“Hello Rodrick”

An immediate reply from far too close behind him caused Rodrick to jump and whip around, brandishing his small knife. Before him stood the senior priest, standing tall with his hands clasped behind him, seeing to look down on the jumpy researcher but keeping his eyes firmly lidded.

“Ah! Father, please don’t scare me like that. I heard a scream and was already scared before you came out of nowhere! Have you seen brother Yanis or sister Farrah? They should have been in the tent with me, but they were gone when I awoke”

As Rodrick lowered his guard, the other closed his eyes seemingly to consider, the man paused for far longer than might have been expected, face twisting and twitching on occasion.

“Hmm. Ah, yes, them. They are dead. Just you and we now”

Eyes widening and knife rising back in front of his chest, Rodrick slowly started to inch back away from the figure before him.

“Father? What do you mean dead? What happened to them?”

“Yes, yes. They made a good sacrifice, helped we get more comfortable, although this one resisted quite a lot. I must say, these gods you worship are quite lackluster in comparison to your fervor and zealotry. In my day, we would never have bowed before such paltry acts of such mediocre divinities, not when we had such glory to idolize. But I suppose times change, and one must change with them. At least your gods are dead and their power available for the taking. Not like that little bitch the Dragons loved so much that they burnt my city to dust”

“Eldred”s eyes flashed open, gone were the emerald sclera, in their place were a pair of glowing amber orbs, the kindly smile wiped off his face, replaced with a vile and stomach curdling sneer.

“At least you still speak Menenic, not complete savages. Well, I got everything I needed from this one. You seem to be wholly unnecessary, child.”

“You… Aren’t Father Eldred… Who are you!?!”

“Hmm, but I AM Father Eldred. Poor Father Eldred, whose expedition failed and team perished in the lair of a ‘deviant’ Ghola, lost to time. Poor, poor Eldred. Yes, this will make a wonderful starting point to reclaim the world. And you. You will make a lovely first… No, I suppose it’s second, meal”

The sneer widened further and further until the face was pulled into a bizarre, macabre grin from ear to ear, and then the mouth opened to expose a terrifying, devouring void.